"How does everyone know?" Grant retorted. "Has anyone ever penetrated through those clouds?"
"No," she admitted; "though there have been plenty of expeditions that tried, and never came back."
"That of course doesn't prove anything. Mind you," he added. "I didn't say there was native life existing on Jupiter. I merely said there were intelligent beings operating that illumination."
"Who could it be then?"
"We'll find out when we get down there."
The very calmness of his matter-of-fact statement brought her back abruptly to their precarious situation.
"But, great heavens, we'll smash and be killed. Can't we do something?"
"We'll not smash." Grant said positively. "Though very likely we shall be killed. As for doing something, we can only wait and take our chances, if the gentry who are hauling us in will only give us an opportunity. You know," he added with a fine inconsecutiveness, "I don't even know your name."
She bubbled with sudden laughter. "Nona—Nona Gail. I was on my way to Callisto, to meet my father," she explained. "He's an engineer, doing some construction work for Interspace Products. But now that I've told you all, what and who may you be?"